


Prerequisite: Become a Knight

by Suzariah



Series: Lessons in Knighthood [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Magic, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Katsuki Yuuri, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Protectiveness, Sorcerers, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery, This is not a skyrim au...but its kinda a skyrim au, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzariah/pseuds/Suzariah
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri has always wanted to be a knight. He's wanted to ever since he saw Victor Nikiforov, renowned hero and legend of the land. Yuuri's trained for years to be just like Victor, he is adept at the sword and a master of magic. It seems like he is on his way to becoming the ideal hero just like his idol. Unfortunately, knighthood isn't all its cracked up to be.In other words: Yuuri really wishes he would have taken some knighthood classes.





	1. Battle 001

**Author's Note:**

> I have rewritten this first chapter like six times I had no idea how I wanted to even begin this but the idea has been stewing for so long (ever since that art came out of Yuuri and Victor in the rage of the buhamut gear like hell yes give me fantasy universe yuri on ice)  
> The universe is very close to skyrim but not quite. The most noticeable difference being Yakov is not a Jarl but an Earl lol  
> I love comments and feedback I was hesitant about this being my final draft of the chapter because of the frequent flashback/tense changes so feel free to let me know what you think! 
> 
> (Also thank you to anyone who read/commented/kudo'd my last fic I did not expect such a great response!! Thank you so much!!)

Yuuri remembers when he first wanted to be a knight. He was 12 years old, young and ignorant as all young knights once were. He lived at his family’s inn. The inn was on the cusp of a small village, towards the mountains where the hot springs rested into the sides of the rock. It was a good place to grow up. Every day he was surrounded by kindness and his life had consisted of simple tasks. In return his rewards were just as simple; food, water, and safety were easily obtained commodities. It was a happy existence. His village had been warm and gentle, just as the man who inspired his quest for knighthood was.

 

Now, Yuuri can’t remember the last time he felt warm.  It must’ve been before he left school, on a seemingly endless journey to the city. At the time he was impatient to reach his destination, but now that he is here Yuuri wishes the journey had taken longer.

 

The ride had been long, he remembers riding his horse and feeling so lonely that he had shook with the force of it. He always thought he wouldn’t mind the loneliness of travelling as a knight, he preferred to keep to himself when he was at school, but after he lost Vicchan being alone with his thoughts felt unbearable. He remembers clutching his parent’s letters to him, as if that small collection of words could create some kind of physical connection to his parents. The sight of the city when it had finally come into view gave him relief so sweet he nearly wept. That was before he saw the flames or the sky that had begun to bleed red with the heat.

 

At first, he thought it was his chance to prove himself. Finally, he could be a hero, just like his idol. He could storm into battle and save the day, a foolish fantasy compared to the reality. The reality was a nightmare pulled straight from the people’s worst fears.

 

Necromancy had been banned for some time, but a growing group of sorcerers sought to rebel against the laws. They always rebelled in the worst ways possible, this time a group of summoners had created a portal at the top of the mountain, just above the city of St. Petersburg. Such spell casting is violent and no city could have been prepared for the onslaught of bloodthirsty monsters that emerged from the depths of hell, rushing towards the city at the command of their monsters.

 

Yuuri had seen the flames and kicked his horse into a gallop, ambition on his mind as he approached the city. The closer he got, the worse it smelled. Yuuri had thought the smell intimidating, but was not experienced enough to be acquainted with the scent of charred human flesh.

 

A ragtag group of soldiers and commanders were stationed in a small camp just outside the city gate. The fear had settled in full by the time he reached them, seeing commanders so unsettled was enough of an indication that he was out of his league. He remembers how they addressed him, full of hope that they had at least one more member to join their cause.

 

“Soldier! Have you come to fight with us?”

 

Yuuri was not surprised they had confused him for a soldier, he was wearing his best armor and cloth. He had on his favorite cape that had been a gift from Phichit and a prized sword from his father displayed at his side. He had been dressed to impress. He was going to ask for a trial of knighthood from Earl Yakov, after all.

 

Plans had obviously changed and given the city of St. Petersburg in flames, Yuuri felt that there was only one possible answer, “Yes.”

 

He then learned the details; over sixty people were caught in church in the center of the city. A mix of wounded soldiers and civilians occupied the space, but they were losing their front-line and they needed someone to delay the monsters long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Anyone who had escaped from the city considered it a suicide mission.  

 

Reinforcements from the Emperor himself were expected in twenty hours.  Yuuri’s resolve had wavered, he wasn’t a soldier. He had been trained in all forms of magic, but his fighting experience was minimal. The only comforting thought was of his idol; Victor surely would not have backed down. He would have volunteered without a second thought.

 

If only Yuuri hadn’t decided to be a hero.

 

There is a lot of responsibility in being the last man standing on the battlefield. Yuuri looks out over his work; he is the only obstacle between the church full of over one hundred and fifty civilians and the never ending supply of monsters. Moments ago, he sealed his fate, creating a magical barrier after his wounded comrades staggered into the church. He drained his mana, to the point where it feels like the energy is now coming straight from his soul. Defensive magic has always been Yuuri’s best, the barrier will hold as long as he drew breath. All he has to do was survive long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

 

He inhales slowly, exhales. He waits for the panic to grip him and leave him helpless, but he’s happy to find his mind clear and body calm.

 

The sun is high, he’s certain he saw the sun give way to night at some point. The reinforcements would arrive soon. He’s too tired to keep fighting, at least with his magic. The monsters are relentless, but as long as they keep chasing blindly he could make it. He’s not as tired physically as he could be. He’d been on the back lines, healing and casting spells for the first half of the fight before paladins started dropping like flies. Physically he feels okay to keep moving, keep running. Run, hide, distract. Rinse and repeat. He could keep this up for a few hours at least. His current hideout is under an abandoned wagon, not ideal, as the wood is singed hot and exudes the smell of blood.

 

After so much fighting, he has a completely different perspective on knighthood. He never contemplated how difficult it would be to endure the smell of blood stained to every inch of clothing. He never thought about how difficult it would be to shove his blade through the chest of a monster, how deeply unsettling the feeling is of cutting through bone and flesh. When the sword is going in it doesn't feel like a monster. He cut through imps, minotaurs, and demons that walked like men. Their blood stains the battlefield. Could they have once been men?

 

The thought makes him sick to his stomach; he swallows the bile that rises in his throat. He’s nearly puked more times than he can count. The images of the battlefield are too graphic to stomach.

 

If he does survive this, he thinks he won’t sleep soundly again for a very long time.

 

A scuffling sound makes his head turn.

 

“What is going on here? We haven’t broken through?” His brief respite is interrupted, Yuuri focuses on the sounds.

 

“No sir, someone has placed a magical barrier over the church. It could take a few hours for us to bring it down. Looks like an alchemic spell, but it's hard to tell.”

 

Yuuri inhales and holds his breath. He trembles as he crawls to the side of the wagon where he can peek out to see the source of the voices. Monsters can’t speak, as far as he knows. It sounds like the necromancers have come down to finish the job.

 

Two men in red robes, an emblem of the demon king decorating their backs. Yuuri is all too familiar with them, the mage’s school covered the history of The Red Servants for three whole weeks. They made sure that every aspiring mage knew their name and what they had done. They were well-known within the various mages guilds as ruining the school of necromancy forever with their corrupt practices.

 

“We don’t have a few hours.” Another says, he is much taller and gruffer than the other two. This new person makes the others look small in comparison, and Yuuri finds himself hoping that this is just a collection of radical necromancers than the actual Red Servants. This new addition makes him think they are simply fans, the new man doesn’t wear the robes and looks more like a bandit with his mismatched clothing and the myriad of blades that decorate his hips and back.

 

“Soldiers are coming this way, we should find the Earl.”

 

Yuuri exhales slowly, glancing at his barrier. Three sorcerers are strong enough to take down his barrier within the hour, if they really put their back into it. Could he distract them? For how long? He just received intel from the enemy itself that the reinforcements are close, how long did he need to hold out?

 

The robed man pulls back his hood, revealing long cascading blonde hair. He sighs dramatically and twirls his hand, casting a small spell?  “I was thinking that...Oh.” His eyes glance to the wagon, looking Yuuri straight in the eye. “I think someone’s alive over there.”

 

Yuuri freezes, then scrambles back as all three pairs of eyes stare at him. The burnt wood crumbles as he heaves against it, trying to make his escape out the opposite side where it’s half broken wheels barely support it. He breathes fast and panicked as he claws out from underneath the heavy wood. If he died now, then reinforcements wouldn’t arrive in time. Death means the mana keeping the barrier up would collapse. The death of all those soldiers, more so his comrades after fighting for so many hours alongside him, their deaths would all be for nothing.

 

_I can’t let them down._

 

He dashes away from the wagon, willing his legs to move as fast as possible. He hears yelling from behind him, followed by the sound of horse hooves clomping against the dirt. Yuuri doesn’t look back, his heart pounding so hard he thinks it may burst from his chest. The sound of horses gets closer, mind running a mile a minute with possible escape plans as he tries to come up with a way to delay his death.

 

A hand grasps his cape as he attempts to slide under a collapsed pillar. He’s yanked back with such a force that he chokes, hands clawing feebly at the tie to his cape. The necromancer drags him back atop his horse, its hooves pressing dangerously close to his head.

 

“I caught him!” The gruff man announces with pride. “Maybe he can take down the barrier for us.”

 

Up close, the enemy is much more intimidating.

 

“Maybe, if it takes too long just kill him” One of the robed men says. Yuuri is surprised that can see his eyes, the malice in them. They are tinged with darkness, as if the taint of summoning hell is a physical mark on the man. The magical energy surrounding him is nothing like he’s ever felt before.

 

He’s thrown before the sorcerers and a boot plants down firmly on his head, his face digging into the ground. Tears spring to his eyes; he’s going to die here. The reinforcements won’t come in time. He’ll—

 

A loud crashing interrupts his thoughts. With some difficulty, he turns his head from where it’s planted into the dirt. The church doors have opened, a man is running down the steps of the church entrance, towards the barrier that forms a dome around the building.

 

“Don’t!” Yuuri shouts, warning the man away from the magical barrier. If the man steps outside of it, he’s not sure what would happen. The man would die surely, as a collective of creatures watch him hungrily from beyond it.

 

The man pauses for a moment, Yuuri can’t tell much about him from where he’s pinned, but the man is so familiar. He is tall and his short hair is silver, so much like Yuuri’s idol.  It falls over his face on one side and even from this distance Yuuri can see blood dried onto the other side of his head.

 

There’s a muffled sound, more talking? The silver-haired man turns abruptly, looking towards the entrance. “We can’t just let him die!” His voice is choked, desperate. The words fill Yuuri with unexpected warmth.

 

Two people stand at the entranceway, he recognizes one of the soldiers he fought alongside. He thinks his name is Seung-Gil. His arm and knee are bandaged, clearly not in the state to fight. The other man, more a boy than anything, doesn’t look much better with blood caked into his blonde hair.

 

“We can’t do anything about him!” The blonde one shouts angrily. He’s right, as much as the man wants to help, he can’t do anything. Taking it down would spell death for everyone inside; there’s no way they could fight in the state they are in.

 

The man steps closer to the barrier, his stance tense.

 

Pain blossoms on his cheek and neck as the boot presses down. The man grins, cruel and vindictive, Yuuri whimpers.

 

The voice from the other side of the barrier is pained, “Stop it!”  

 

The silver-haired man is pleading for his life. _Pleading._ How can that be? He doesn’t even know him. Tears spring to Yuuri’s eyes.

 

The two robed men seem to have a plan, they approach the barrier cautiously. They seem to be moving to speak with the kind soul pleading for Yuuri’s life.

 

Another sound and Yuuri feels more than sees the barrier push the two necromancers back. They make a frustrated sound and the pain in Yuuri’s head gets stronger from the pressure of the boot on his head.

 

“Tell us how to take down the barrier little mage, if you do we’ll make it quick,” The gruff one smiles, pulling a blade from his side. “If not then...I’ll be sure to make it painful.”  

He’s more afraid than he’s ever been in his life. Tears poor shamelessly down his face, they are for more than just the knife at his throat. Yuuri’s entire body trembles, the promise of pain and death shines in his enemy’s eyes.

 

“I-I...c-can....” He coughs into the dirt; it’s the first time he’s used his voice in what feels like forever. His mind scrambles, what kind of spell do they think it is? Defensive magic isn’t enormously common in this form, could he make up something? His spell is simply an amalgamation of anti-demonic enchantments and precise warding techniques, will it be obvious if he lies? “I-I can tell you, but if you k-kill me, it’ll take you much longer.”

 

“Any why’s that?”

 

Gods, why is he such a horrible liar? His mind rushes with excuses, all of them not good enough to spare him. What would make them hesitate? How long can he spare himself? Minutes? An hour?

 

“It’s...it's a spell...a blood spell,” Yuuri tells them. Blood spells are taboo, would they sympathize? Are blood spells directly tied in with life-force? He can’t remember, they only covered them briefly at school since its taboo. There was information in the banned books on blood spells, why hadn’t he looked? How he wishes he’d looked at them now, when Phichit would sneak them into their rooms at night.

 

The boot is removed from his face; Yuuri is relieved, before he feels the firm kick to his ribs. He coughs violently and clutches his side.

 

“Bullshit. Blood spells are banned, a good little soldier like you wouldn’t dare,” The long-haired one says. “He’s lying.”

 

“I’m not,” Yuuri’s grateful that his voice comes out even despite the pain. “I’m not a soldier.”

 

“Then what are you? You sure look like one.”

 

“Just a traveling mage,” He gasps.

 

The long-haired mage still looks doubtful. “And you are here battling hell-spawn why?”

 

“Let’s just kill him, we don’t have time for this–”

 

“Stop it Al, we still don’t know if the Earl is dead.”

 

Gruff man, Al apparently, presses his knife into Yuuri’s cheek. “Hmm, if he’s telling the truth maybe we could recruit him?”

 

“No time, if it really is a blood spell then we should leave. We don’t have time to dismantle something like that and this kid clearly couldn’t have put it together himself. There is so little magic in this kid it’s barely perceivable.”

 

_That’s because he used it all_ , Yuuri wants to say

 

Yuuri feels his vision slipping as he observes their conversation. The cold bite of the knife against his cheek feels distant, especially with the screaming in his ribs. Unconsciousness seems so much more appealing.

 

“Hey now—don’t die yet. I barely touched you,” Al chides. The long-haired one produces a horse from someone... another sorcerer?  

 

“We have no time, just kill him,” Long-haired mage orders.

 

Someone's shouting and then the cold is suddenly _inside_ him. Yuuri looks down to see the knife buried into his side. He hears a noise, almost a scream and is surprised to find it's not his own. He feels the pain, but he’s so tired...the barrier. He has to stay alive, stay awake. If he falls asleep everyone will die. He can feel his energy, his essence, keeping the barrier together. It feels as though it’s flickering, wavering like candlelight.

He fights his eyelids as the knife is removed, a small displeased sound leaving his lips as the cold edge leaves him.

 

“Hey, I think the barrier is weakening.”

 

He fights, willing his life-force to remain firm. If they just leave before he dies…

There’s the sound of a spell being cast.  His mind is hazy, but he can feel the familiar tingle, the confirmation that his magic held off another attack successfully.

 

“Give it up, we have to leave I doubt the Earl is in there anyway. He probably escaped the city underground.”

 

“You’re probably right…”

 

Yuuri could feel the sorcerers get further and further away, their magical presence reducing the pressure on him. He opens his eyes slowly, not remembering when he closed them. The monsters have taken notice of him in the absence of their masters. Growling that sounds almost curious giving way to aggression. They approach slowly and Yuuri closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to see when they realize he’s alive. He’d rather not see his death coming.

 

It’s easier to let go in the dark, when everything is so muffled. He thinks he hears hooves and growling, but it’s all so far away. Is this what death feels like? Succumbing to incoherence?

 

He recognizes warmth on his wrist. How unusual, it’s faint and gentle, surprising enough that he finds his eyes opening again.

 

There’s a man standing over him. He’s blurry, but strangely familiar. The haze in his mind clears enough to supply that his hair is the color of Victor’s. It’s silver and feathery, but much shorter than Victor’s. His features are so angelic that Yuuri finds himself smiling. Who knew angels would be so pretty?

 

“Oh thank the gods you’re alive, hang on I have you.”

 

The angel’s hands light up—healing magic. Pressure on his side returns and he gasps, the pain so hazy a moment ago returning with potency.

 

“You’re going to be okay, don’t worry.”

 

The man’s words are incomprehensible in his exhausted state. He can see the man’s lips moving, the curve of his brow and shape of his eyes concerned and focused. It’s only now that he notices that blood stains the side of the angel’s head. He thinks the man is healing him, he should return the gesture shouldn’t he?

 

Shakily his hand reaches upwards, something’s wrong though, he can’t seem to reach the wound. His hand just ends up curved into the side of the man’s face. Maybe if he had enough mana?

 

“Hey now, you need to rest. What are you doing?” The man says. His voice is sweet like honey. He rests his free hand over Yuuri’s where it’s still curved into his cheek.

 

“I-I’m sorry your head...I don’t think I have the energy,” He breathes.

 

The man gently retracts his hand, “Don’t worry about that, you’ve done plenty. You can rest now, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Yuuri wonders how that can be possible. One man protect him from the battlefield of monsters? He must really be an angel. He doesn’t have to—he wants to tell the angel— there’s no point now anyway.

 

Yuuri’s head lolls to the side. He wills his neck to support him enough to look around, where’s the church? Is it safe? He’s surprised to see horses instead of imps rampaging around, on their backs ride soldiers tearing their steel through the monsters beneath them. The reinforcements had arrived, his exhausted brain supplies.

 

The relief is so potent he loses all strength, his head falling back into the dirt.  

 

Hands curve under his knees and behind his back. His head presses into a firm shoulder, supporting his neck. He startles as he’s lifted. There’s a complaint on his lips about being cradled like this, but it never makes an appearance. Besides, he quickly finds he doesn’t terribly mind being protected by this Victor look-alike. It reminds him of his childhood, the wonder and youthful idolization he felt. If he’s to die, it's not a terrible feeling to die with. He can’t imagine recovering from this level of exhaustion.

 

“How did you survive expending this much mana? I can’t imagine that kind of feeling, your essence feels so faint.” The warm voice washes over him, soothing and gentle, he feels himself slipping further away.

 

He wants to thank the man before he slips away. He wants to tell him where to take him, how will his parents in Hasetsu know what happened to him? Will they hear it via a messenger? Will Phichit ever find out?

 

“M-my family…. I-I need to—” He coughs violently and the pain in his ribs amplifies with the motion. His eyelids sag and he doesn’t fight it when they don’t reopen.   

 

“It’s okay we’ll find them when you’re better, just rest now.”


	2. Recovery 001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri recovers and gets to know his strange rescuer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I added another chapter to this since it was longer than I expected! The next chapter should come out sooner since I'm done with finals.
> 
> A third chapter will be added soon. 
> 
> Somewhat edited this, might go back later and make some more minor edits.

It’s a nice day, Yuuri thinks. A perfect day for finding shells on the shoreline. As long as he’s home before dark, mother won’t mind.

 

The sound of waves is always calming. Gazing out upon them, he feels like the world is endless. That he could travel anywhere and be anything. Sometimes he feels trapped by this village, it’s small and isolated from the rest of the kingdom. He longs to see the rest of his country, to know what lies beyond the chiseled mountains and across the sea he loves. But peace is all he is familiar with and he can’t imagine making a journey alone. Especially from the stories he’s heard, of bandits and monsters that attack weary travelers. No, little Yuuri isn’t strong enough for adventure.

 

“Yuuri!” His sister, Mari, shouts. Voices carry well to the shore from the village, he hears her easily.

 

“Coming!” It must be time for dinner. Or maybe a guest dirtied the hot springs again.

 

There are only a few hundred people in his village so everyone is familiar as he strolls into town. There is no danger in greeting the neighbors, though he finds himself avoiding conversation if he can manage it.

 

“Yuuri, will you be over for dance later today?” Minako asks as he passes by her lodge. He usually attends her classes on Tuesday’s, but Minako has been encouraging him to foster his dancing skills more.

 

“Maybe,” He answers her. “I’ll be there tomorrow for sure!”

 

Minako shakes her head. “C’mon boy, how will you get better if you don’t practice!” Her chiding is light, but he still always feels a little defensive when she brings it up.

 

“I do practice!”

 

Minako chuckles, “Not enough. Run along now, Mari was looking for you.”

 

Yuuri breaks into a light jog as he hears Mari’s voice again. He waves goodbye to Minako and smiles at Yuko as he passes by her in front of her mother’s store.

 

He’s distracted so he doesn’t see them coming. He’s too busy admiring the chestnut colored poodle perched just in front of the inn. Its nervous, barking at something with a vicious growl. He wonders what’s the matter before he slams directly into the problem.

 

He stumbles, recoiling from hitting someone at full speed. It turns out to be a person, dressed in tattered robes and wearing a katana at his side. Yuuri immediately straightens, already bowing over in apology.

 

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see you!”

 

The man seems unfazed by the encounter, based on Yuuri’s current view of his feet and knees. He makes no movement, no acknowledgment that Yuuri said anything at all. After a few moments of silence, Yuuri hesitantly lifts his head and meets the man’s gaze.

 

He’s tall, tall enough that Yuuri has to strain to meet his eyes. Dark scars litter his face and neck, the expression on his face is an angry scowl.

 

“Think this one has anything?” Someone says, there’s a small entourage following the man. They are all wearing similar clothing and expressions. The uniformity immediately brings Yuuri’s mind to palace soldiers on patrol, but that can’t be right.

 

“Obviously not, look at his clothes.” The man gestures to Yuuri’s tattered hand-me-downs. Yuuri doesn’t think his clothes are highly unusual, just a simple beige tunic and brown pants. Why the man is talking about Yuuri’s clothing in such a way, he can’t imagine. But nervous sweat starts to bead at his neck and he takes a hesitant step back.

 

The action causes the man in front of him to unsheath his sword and Yuuri freezes. “Did I tell you to move? Where’s your house kid?”

 

Yuuri is frozen. He doesn’t want to tell the man where he lives, what if he decides to stay at the inn? He doesn’t want to encounter this man ever again.

 

“Boss we’re going to go check out the other houses, I don’t see much military here.”

 

The man nods, and the group behind him disperses. The tip of his katana makes its way to point at Yuuri’s throat.

 

He wants to scream, to cry for his mother and father. He shouldn’t have gone out today. All he did was bump into the man, is he some kind of lord? No one from his town would take such offense to accidentally running into someone. He must be someone important, only important people care about that sort of thing.

 

_Who are you_ , Yuuri wants to ask, but no words form. Instead he watches as the man sighs and his katana shines as he turns it, gesturing as if he is about to cut Yuuri down.

 

Yuuri scrambles backwards, running as fast as he can to get away from the man. He trips in his hurry, crawling desperately to put as much distance as he can between him and the sword. The man catches up easily, his sword at the ready, pointed to pierce Yuuri through the chest.

 

“Enough!”

 

There’s a loud clash of swords as someone comes to Yuuri’s defense. This new person is so small in comparison to the man. Yuuri fills with worry as he watches, surely the larger man is stronger? Will Yuuri die if his savior loses?

 

Except it quickly becomes clear who has the upper hand in the fight and it's not his attacker. It’s the beautiful man whose movements can only be that of a highly trained dancer. He moves fluidly, dodging the edge of the sword with easy dips and lunges.  It looks like a performance, the way the man’s long silver hair moves with his defense. It billows and flows, never hindering his movement. It reminds him a bit of the way Minako moves when she’s trying to impress.

 

His attacker becomes enraged at the dancer’s easy dodges. With a cry, the man bull-rushes him. His head is tucked, sword out in a powerful display of determination. Yuuri quivers with concern. His savior is confident though and smiles as his own sword moves with quick finesse, easily disarming the attacker.

 

“Yield or die,” The dancer says with ease. Yuuri watches in wonder at his confidence, how he could radiate such obvious power with such delicate movement.

 

His attacker seems even more enraged. His large hands raise, but not in surrender. Yuuri shouts a warning,he knows how to recognize a spell even if he’s never cast one himself.

 

The dancer sighs dramatically, flipping a loose strand of his hair out of the way.

 

“So be it.”

 

His attacker shoots a sharp ball of ice at the dancer, so fast that Yuuri’s eyes barely catch it. Yuuri entirely catches what happens next however, as he’s never been more amazed or astounded by anything.

 

The dancer produces a ward with a flick of his wrist. In a short few seconds, the ward’s magic seems to wrap around the ball of ice as if it were going to disintegrate it. Yuuri watches in wonder as the ball of ice is restructured and reformed to make a sharp needle of ice. Before he has time to realize the level of magic he just witnessed, he’s watching as the needle of ice is fired back at an impossible speed, straight through his attackers chest.  

 

His attacker falls to the ground and Yuuri finally finds the strength to stand. He’s never seen someone killed before, but he finds he feels no remorse for his attacker. Only awe at the man who saved his life.

 

The man in question approaches him quickly, urgency in his tone. “Are you alright? Don’t worry you’re safe now.”

 

Yuuri tries, he tries very hard to thank the man, but there’s something clogged in his throat.

 

“You’re in shock, don’t worry I can help with that. Just wait one moment. Makkachin!”

 

The dog Yuuri was watching earlier suddenly comes running.

 

“Easy now, Makka will take care of you until I rid of the other raiders.” His savior smiles and pets his head reassuringly. “Take him to the inn Makka.”

 

The dog seems to understand, as suddenly Yuuri finds himself being nudged ahead by the dog into his home, where his mother immediately brings him into a firm and hug.

 

“Oh thank the gods you're safe, I was so worried. Mari called you, but you didn’t come home! And then the raiders…Thank the gods we had a knight staying here.”

 

A knight...so his savior is a knight. Beneath the panic, wonder starts to blossom. Yuuri never thought he’d get to meet a knight! Let alone be rescued by one.

 

Except mother just said those men were raiders. There are so many of them! How is the knight supposed to take all of them? Are knights capable of taking on twenty men alone?

 

Despite the fear in his chest and the quivering in his limbs, Yuuri is eager to watch the events outside unfold. He slowly moves to the window, before his mother grabs his arm firmly and drags him upstairs. Yuuri would protest, until he hears his father mutterting from the balcony. Makkachin follows them as they make their way.

 

His father is watching the events unfold and Yuuri quickly goes to his side to join him. Yuuri’s eyes widen when he notices Mari preparing arrows.

 

“What are you doing, Mari?” His father asks.

 

“Well we can’t let that knight take them all on his own!”

 

He peeks over the balcony and watches. The knight’s silver hair is easily spotted and he’s wearing the same cocky grin he wore before. There’s no hesitation as he moves, confidence in his every step even as he takes on a whole group alone.

 

The knight’s movements are as swift and his magic deadly as he moves. He’s turned his whole body into a weapon now, dancing elegantly, the magic emanating from every pore it seems, making his whole body appear bright. The knight’s leg flicks out, a large burst of fire going with it and removing two of the raiders from the fight.

 

Another bend, another dance,  a quick movement in the wrist and then two more raiders are on the ground.  Yuuri is astounded, completely inspired. He’s never seen such a fighting style, never heard of knights who fought like _this_. With magic and swords together, movements so fluid and elegant they double as a dance.

 

Yuuri glances at Mari as she lowers her bow, the same expression of astonishment that is on her face likely reflecting his own.

 

Soon the battle is over, the knight seems to have barely broken a sweat.

 

There’s silence and a hint of heavy breathing as the dust and sounds of battle settle. It’s only now that Yuuri’s realized what he’s wearing, a long cape and battle mage armor, each decorated with the crest of the kingdom.

 

_It’s true, he’s really a knight!_

 

There’s a cheer, it might come from him, but it could’ve been anyone, because suddenly the village is in an uproar, cheers of thanks and praise for the knight ring from every home in the village. Twenty raiders lay defeated and only one civilian appears to be injured, a miracle.

The feeling of relief in his bones spurs him into action. He practically flies down the stairs.

 

Yuuri has to thank the knight. He _must_. The knight must know how grateful he is for saving his life and the village. He must know how amazed Yuuri was at the way he fought, the way he danced. He wants to know so much, where did the knight come from? How did he learn to fight like that? Where did he learn magic?

 

There’s a commotion at the front of the inn when Yuuri gets to the front door. The dog seems eager to be let out and Yuuri wonders if he follows Makkachin if that get him to the knight faster. Yuuri tries to squeeze through, desperate to reach the knight. Makkachin barks happily at someone and Yuuri looks up, finding that the knight has come to him.

 

“Oh good, you’re alright. I’m so relieved, how are you feeling? Did Makkachin take care of you?” He says, smile wide and heart-shaped. It’s unexpected, how cheerful and approachable the man seems. Yuuri would expect such a strong warrior to have a more serious disposition.

 

Yuuri surges forward, arms wrapping around the knight. “Thank you! Thank you so much! You saved my life!”

 

Tears fall down his face as he steps back to meet the knight’s eyes. There’s a gentle smile on his face and he leans down to Yuuri’s height.  

 

“You are most welcome, it’s my job after all. Though I admit I didn’t expect so much excitement on my vacation.” The knight laughs lightly, the sound comes out strained though.

 

“The way you fight…you dance beautifully,” Yuuri blurts out. He feels his face heat.

 

The knight looks a little surprised at this. His smile turns gente, less exuberant. “Me? Why thank you. I like to try to have a little fun. Not many notice that my fighting is so close to a dance. Protecting….well, killing is often very unpleasant.  It might be a bit disrespectful to the act, but those moves make controlling my magic with so much emotion around me easier.”

 

Yuuri nods, like he understands even if he doesn’t. He’s never done magic, never wielded a sword, but he understands how dancing can make emotions easier to deal with.

 

“What’s your name?” Yuuri asks, because he must know. He needs to remember the name, he wants to immortalize such an act of heroism.

 

The knight smiles gently, “My name is Victor.”

 

…

 

When Yuuri finally wakes, he finds himself unusually warm. And wet. Did he fall asleep in the onsen?

 

It takes his brain a few moments to catch up before realizing he’s not at the onsen. He hasn’t visited his family in years and for all intents and purposes, he should be dead right now.

 

Was he stabbed? How is he alive? The one man who was worried for him approached him. Maybe? He remembers vaguely thinking the man was an angel of some kind.

 

He opens his eyes slowly, finding them especially heavy. Though his body feels abnormally light, as if he’s being flooded with mana. It feels like the times he’s visited the mana pools in the temple, where people worship and bless the water with their magical energy daily. Perhaps he really is dead, though he imagines the afterlife would feel more unexpected than this.

 

He blinks away the bleariness in his sight. A simple ceiling, covered in wood knots. He lifts his head, the motion makes a sloshing sound and he’s suddenly aware that he’s in a bathtub, and is naked except for his undergarments.

 

Someone undressed him. The thought isn’t as embarrassing as it should be, probably because he knows he’d be dead had it not been for whatever kindness this stranger has offered him.

 

He makes a motion to get out of the tub before he notices him, the man who saved his life, sitting _right beside him._

 

Yuuri gasps in surprise and nearly stumbles out of the tub. The man’s hands are dipped into the water, though his head is bowed, pressed against the side where Yuuri can’t see his face.

 

The man doesn’t move, and the position looks extraordinarily uncomfortable. He looks to the man’s hands again and sees that he’s leaking mana into the water. _Oh._

 

This man made a mana pool for him, on his own. _How in the…_

 

Yuuri immediately steps out and removes the man’s hands from the pool. The transition from being very full of mana to suddenly being drained is terrible and he stumbles. He really needs to stay out of the pool though, and get this man in there who looks like he may have fallen asleep during the process. Who knows how much mana was drained from him if he fell asleep.

 

Yuuri leans down and moves the man’s body away from the water and the enchantments likely engraved into the side of the bathtub. He’s practically a ragdoll and Yuuri moves to lift him and place him in the pool instead. He’s not too heavy, thankfully, but Yuuri unsteadily weak with his injuries and can’t quite carry him.

 

Eventually he gives him after some struggling and finds himself kneeling down, summoning his own mana to give what he can. The man’s head falls into his lap and Yuuri is struck by his face and hair, _so much like Victor._ The similarity is startling, but likely just wishful thinking on Yuuri’s part. Yuuri only knew Victor for a few days before he was gone.

 

The man grumbles, “Y-you awake now? Good.” Not-Victor sighs. Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief that he’s awake now. He can’t imagine how exhausting it would be to use his mana like that.

 

Water expels magic very quickly, much faster than any kind of solid matter, so someone would need to keep up a near constant stream of mana to keep the pool enchanted. Its easier to do in temples, filled with masters of healing magic and individuals who spend day in and day out there putting their energy in prayers into the holy waters. But a private one, upheld only by one person? Nearly impossible. Though Yuuri may be dead without such a tactic, the way that liquid can enter the body makes it much more viable to for healing than any other kind of remedy he knows of, at least for physical wounds.

 

“Are you alright? It’s dangerous to let your mana constantly drain like that.” Yuuri prods not-Victor with the tip of his finger. The man blinks and Yuuri is suddenly hyper aware than the man’s head is laying in his lap. He glances around the room, thankfully locating a pillow settled onto a nearby chair. He leans over to grab it and quickly replaces his lap with the pillow instead.

 

The man seems like he was awake through this whole process as an amused smirk lifts his lips and Yuuri flushes.

 

“Worth it, I owed you one.” The man says suddenly, sitting up so fast he nearly knocks his forehead into Yuuri’s. “Wow! That was fast. You’ll have to forgive me for falling asleep on you like that, normally I’d do better but the recent battle took a lot out of me!”

 

“I see.” Yuuri says, then remembers he’s nearly naked. “Um...can I have my clothes?”  

 

Not-Victor seems to contemplate this for a second, looking as if he’s trying to remember if he even _has_ Yuuri’s clothes which is concerning.

 

“Oh...yes, though you may want to wear something else for now, yours are still a mess. I’m good with many kinds of magic, but mending clothes isn’t something I am good at. Though Yuri will be by later to help with that.”

 

Yuuri blinks in confusion. “Wait…” He points at himself, “But I’’m Yuuri?”

 

The silver-haired man looks delighted by this. “Your names Yuuri too! Wonderful, Yuri will get a kick out of this. But that might be confusing for you though.” He pauses, then his face seems to light up even more. “I know! Let’s call him Yurio for now. It’s a good nickname for him.”

 

Yuuri laughs awkwardly, unsure what to make of the very silly and apparently very talented man who saved his life.

 

The man stands and offers his hand to help Yuuri up. “Come, let's get you some clothes. You can borrow some of my robes for now, their enchanted it will be good to keep your mana up.” The man tsks, “No familiar and you drained yourself completely dry. You’re quite daring.”

 

Yuuri doesn’t know much about familiars. His mind flashes to Makkachin for some reason, was that Victor’s familiar and not his dog?

The man hands him a folded blue robe. It’s nice, too nice for him really. Probably nicer than the robe he likely ruined in battle. “Um thank you.”

 

“My pleasure.”  

Yuuri bites his lip. There’s so much he wants to say. A familiar feeling of gratitude, the kind he hasn’t felt in nearly twelve years, is filling his chest and making his throat tight. The feeling is like that of the last time someone saved his life, whoever this man is he owes him a great debt.

 

“Um...thank you. For saving my life. I...am not sure how to properly thank you, but I please know I’m endlessly grateful. I owe you a great debt,” Yuuri says. His voice comes out a little strained, but he feels a little better getting the words off his chest.

 

He watches the man’s face carefully. It softens, and a strange look passes over him. A look Yuuri cannot clearly define, something like...fondness? No, not quite. Dedication?

 

Either way, it is a strange look to be on the receiving end of a stranger's.

 

The man steps closer as Yuuri is putting on his given robe. His savior seems unusually flustered for a moment, and clears his throat as if some unnamed emotion was caught there. “It seems you don’t understand. Yuuri, do you not remember the battle? If there is anyone here who owes someone a debt, it is me. I owe you my life, and much more.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “Huh? Why?”

 

Not-Victor leans close and gently takes Yuuri’s hand. He practically squeaks from the unexpected contact, but the man’s touch is so tender as he suddenly gets down on one knee. The position is extremely reminiscent of a marriage proposal and Yuuri feels like he’s on fire with a mix of embarrassment and confusion. What did he do?

 

The look on the stranger’s face isn’t helping things. Profound loyalty is what Yuuri thinks it is, but he’s never been good at reading people. He’s done nothing to inspire such emotion.

 

“If you don’t recall, then I shall remind you. First, you joined what was widely considered a suicide mission. For approximately thirty hours I watched you fight on that battlefield in the defense of me and all those I care about.”

 

_Oh._

 

“Not only that, but when your comrades fled to safety inside the church once they’d reached their limit, you did not. I was so certain we were doomed when the last of the soldiers joined us, we were all so tired that if the monsters had gotten in we would’ve certainly died. But you kept going, even though you were long past your max. I don’t frighten easily, but I was terrified. I know I couldn’t defend my loved ones there, but you...You put up that shield, at the time guaranteeing your own death for the slight chance you may save ours...I’m quite good at magic Yuuri and I know I could never make something like that running on empty. I can’t imagine how painful it must’ve been to keep fighting after using your magic like that. You were out there fighting, knowing you would die, but you were so convinced that our lives were worth it. I’ve never felt so inspired. You are a hero, Yuuri.”  The man moves his silver bangs from his eyes. They’re glistening, looking at Yuuri with such awe that he feels paralyzed. How could he inspire this much emotion from someone?

 

Something akin to joy fills him. Maybe not quite joy, more like giddy relief. Is this what saving someone feels like?

 

Is this what Victor felt when he saved him all those years ago? Did he feel Yuuri’s awe and admiration so potently?

 

It doesn’t feel like Yuuri did all that. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was feeling in the moment, mostly fear and exhaustion. It feels strange being thanked when it was really the reinforcements who saved those in the church.

 

“But I...I was only delaying for the reinforcements.”

 

“And you did, you succeeded against all odds. And so, my life is forever indebted to you.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen, “No no, you owe me nothing. You already saved my life so we’re even.”

 

The man stands, his eyes mischievous as he leans down to press a kiss to Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri splutters. “Ah, but you saved all my friends and family, as well as the Earl! I must owe you for all those lives as well. I would have to save you at least a few hundred times to account for all of them.”

 

Yuuri says nothing to this, too many emotions filling his chest. Joy, relief, and completely and utterly flustered by whoever this man is.

 

He feels frustrated now, at the realization that he doesn’t know a single thing about this man.

 

“What’s your name?” Yuuri asks.

 

The man grins widely, “Victor! I’m a knight of Earl Yakov’s.”

 

Yuuri stops breathing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> My tumblr is [Suzariah](suzariah.tumblr.com) if anyone wants to chat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hit me up anytime at [Suzariah](http://suzariah.tumblr.com) on tumblr to chat :P


End file.
